I stand on legs but never walk. I hold your thoughts, yet never talk. By day I work, by night I rest, Papers, screens, and hands I host. What am I?

In fairy tales, I help fetch the prize, a vessel for water beneath sunny skies. With handle held high, I sway side to side, a humble companion on country rides.

I live when you wonder and die when you know, I grow in the maybe and shrink in the so. I vanish when named, yet guide what you do. Half truth, half question, what am I to you?

I am hated. I am teacher. I am torture. And I am feared. What am I?

You drop me in the toilet I float on water I'm cut and chopped Mathematicians deal with me , as do lumberjacks